Author's Note: Here we go…

Thanks for all your support, guys. It means a lot to me.

For the next week, Narcissa simply existed.

She did not attend class, and she did not go to the Great Hall to eat. She barely kept herself awake, conscious only in the most literal sense. After a few days, Slughorn came into the dormitory and tried unsuccessfully to persuade Narcissa to leave, to go back to class. Narcissa simply laid in her bed on her side, not responding at all. Her dormmates surely noticed her morose behavior, but judging from what she overheard of their gossip, they assumed her mood reflected the distraught demeanor of Lucius Malfoy, who had returned to Hogwarts after Iain's trial without a single word to anyone. He continued his Head Boy duties and attended class, but his expression never changed from its hard edges and cold stare.

The other Slytherins seemed to assume this was what upset Narcissa, and she did not bother to correct them. She did not care.

Thaddeus even sneaked his way into the girls' dormitory (apparently he'd performed some rather acrobatic feats to get past the sliding stairs), and he sat with her for hours, comforting her with a hand to her arm and bringing her food. "He's okay," Thaddeus whispered to Narcissa. "He's out of Azkaban. He was found innocent, Narcissa. Be happy! You'll see him soon."

His words held little comfort, but it was nice to have someone there who knew the true source of Narcissa's misery.

Iain was never coming back to Hogwarts.

Finally, a week after Narcissa discovered Iain's fate, she received a letter. The owl came directly to the dormitory window, and when one of the other girls accepted it, she turned to Narcissa. "Narcissa, you got a letter." Sybil tilted her head. "It's from someone named Algernon."

In her bed, Narcissa's dark features lifted, and she sat up slowly in her bed, blinking against the dizziness that hit her from the simple movement. For a moment, she could not comprehend her own thoughts. And then – "Give it here!" She jumped up, taking the letter from Sybil, who rolled her eyes and left. Narcissa looked at the handwriting on the envelope, and her heart soared.

Dashing away, Narcissa tucked herself into her bed, drew her curtains, illuminated her wand and read.

Narcissa,

Bloody hell, there's too many things I wanted to write, so I had to make a list.

1. Are you okay?

2. I'm fine.

3. I was found innocent.

4. I did get expelled though.

5. I'm at home with my family in Stirling.

6. Are you sure you're okay?

7. Please eat.

8. I'm okay, really.

9. I lied and told my parents I graduated Hogwarts early.

10. I'm still a bad liar. They didn't believe me.

11. I'm sorry this took so long! It's been crazy!

12. Please don't worry.

I13. It's okay, I promise.

14. Please eat.

15. Dumbledore spoke up for me.

16. Lucius Malfoy really wants to kill me.

17. My older brothers both went to prison while I was gone so that's nice.

18. Dumbledore says I'm safe.

19. Are you okay?

20. I love you.

Please write back soon. I miss you.

Love,

"Algernon"

Narcissa read and re-read the letter a dozen times. After a while, she clutched it to her chest, tears of relief pouring down her face. When she'd finally gathered herself, she took the letter, found some parchment, ink, and a quill, and then she rushed down to the library where she wouldn't be bothered. There, she wrote a response back. Every few sentences, she had to pause and suck in a deep breath again, doing her best not to cry.

Algernon,

I'm so glad you're alright. I can't even tell you how I've been here since you left. Miserable is too kind a word. You would be rightly ashamed of me for acting so dramatically, but I couldn't help it. This place is intolerable without you. I'm so happy you're safe at home, and that you were found innocent. I should have never left you alone in the first place.

I don't want to be here without you. What will we do? When will I see you again?

Attending Hogwarts next year isn't worth it if you aren't here. I want to be where you are. I love you and I miss you so much.

Love always,

Narcissa

After finishing her letter, Narcissa quickly folded it up, addressed it back to the location on the envelope from before, and sent it off. She quickly received a reply, and from that point on – for the remaining five weeks of the term – she and Iain wrote to each other every day.

Narcissa,

Don't you dare drop out of school! You are too smart for that. Just because I can't finish doesn't mean you shouldn't…

Algernon,

Please, I don't want to be here without you! What are we going to do? …

Narcissa,

It's alright, love. I've started working for my Pa's shop again, and I'm going to save every single bit of money I make. While you're finishing school, I'll work all year, every day if I have to. And then, when you're done with Hogwarts, I'll have enough saved to get us a place of our own. That'll be great, won't it? Just think, you'll be able to decorate it exactly how you like…

Algernon,

I'll save my gold, too! Anything Bellatrix gives me for shopping during the school year, I'll put it all away! I still have gold from this term, too. I'll save it, and when I'm done here, you and I can find the perfect home together. I promise I won't make it too girly…

Narcissa,

See? It's going to work out perfectly! You're worrying for nothing…

On the last day of classes, Narcissa smiled at her most recent letter from Iain. Folding it very carefully, she tucked the letter with all the others into the leather-bound journal he had given her for Christmas. She'd written in it every day since he'd gone, and it was a welcome release, the perfect place for her inner-most thoughts. Taking in a deep breath, she wrapped up the journal in its cord and tucked it into her locked trunk. Then she rose to go downstairs for dinner.

However, once Narcissa arrived at the Great Hall, Slughorn was waiting for her. "Miss Black," he said, looking a little apprehensive, "there is someone here to see you." Brows furrowed, Narcissa stepped around the corner.

Cygnus Black III stood at the entrance to Hogwarts.

Narcissa's eyes widened, her body jerking almost painfully as she came face-to-face with her father. Slughorn waited next to her, but when Mr. Black approached, he looked to Slughorn and said snidely, "I would like to speak to my daughter alone."

Slughorn frowned, but he nodded, looking to Narcissa for a moment before he stepped away and vanished through a door. Narcissa's heart seized in her chest, and she mentally begged Slughorn not to leave her. But he was already gone.

"Hello Father," greeted Narcissa at last in a low whisper.

Mr. Black stepped forward. He was thinner than Narcissa remembered, and there was an unsteadiness to his walk. His eyes were glassy and his skin waxy, and he looked overall unwell. Bellatrix had once told Narcissa that their father severely abused potions and medicines in addition to his many other vices. Andromeda had shushed her, but Narcissa knew Bellatrix was telling the truth.

Their father was an embezzler, a thief, an abuser, and an alcoholic. And here he was, standing right in front of Narcissa, bearing down on her with a palpable animosity that engulfed Narcissa in a tidal wave of hatred. Had there ever been a father so bereft of love for his daughters?

"Where is she?" grunted Mr. Black at last.

Narcissa tucked her head. "Who, Father?"

"You know who I'm talking about!" he snapped, making Narcissa jerk as he stepped right up to her. "Your bloody whore sister! Bellatrix!"

Narcissa shook her head furiously. "I don't know, Father – "

"Yes you do! Stop lying to me!"

"I don't, Father, please!" Tears filled Narcissa's eyes.

"That bloody bitch," sneered Mr. Black, "has stolen the family jewels from our home! She has embarrassed our family! She is a disgrace!"

You are the disgrace, thought Narcissa, but she could not find the courage to say the words aloud.

"Now tell me where she is!"

"I swear to you, Father," Narcissa cried, "I don't – "

WHACK. Shock and pain intermingled as Narcissa brought a hand to her now bruised face. She felt her lip bleeding, and dimly registered that her father had slapped her. "TELL ME!" roared Mr. Black.

It was at that moment that Slughorn entered swiftly, and Narcissa realized he must have been keeping close by. "Mister Black!" snapped the older wizard angrily. "That is quite enough!"

"Do not presume to tell me what to do!" snarled Mr. Black, but other teachers entered now, too, and Professor Sprout reached out to gently tug Narcissa behind the protective wall of professors. "That is my bloody daughter!" growled Mr. Black. "I'll discipline her however I see fit!"

"I am afraid, Mister Black," said Dumbledore as he glided to the front of the group, normally soft eyes sharp, "that you are mistaken. For we are still on the grounds of Hogwarts, and as a result, you are not permitted to abuse your daughter. Not here."

Mr. Black balked at the sight of Dumbledore, though his rage remained. However, he did not advance on Narcissa again, who was still holding her face and staring at the floor, burning with shame and embarrassment.

"Fine, Dumbledore," snapped Mr. Black. "Hide her here at your bloody Mudblood-infested hole! She has to return home some time."

"You should leave, Mister Black," was Dumbledore's deceptively calm reply. "Promptly, unless you would like us to aid you in a most … unseemly manner."

Mr. Black took a step back at this, observing the cluster of teachers once more before he turned on his heel and left.

"Come on, dear," said Sprout. "Let's go and see about that lip, hm?"

Nodding dully, Narcissa let Professor Sprout lead her away.

Narcissa did not have the opportunity to write to Iain about what had happened with her father. She wasn't sure if she even wanted to tell him, knowing how upset he would be. On the morning the students were set to leave Hogwarts for the summer, Dumbledore called Narcissa to his office.

Entering with her eyes low, Narcissa took a seat in a chair across from the elderly wizard.

"Miss Black," said Dumbledore. "Do you feel safe returning to your home?" He watched her carefully. "If not, I'm sure some of our staff here can offer you a place in their home for the summer. After all, you are of age. No matter what your father may believe, he does not have the legal right to control or manipulate you any longer."

Narcissa thought about this for a while before answering. The idea of going home with a teacher like some sort of unwanted, pathetic orphan was repulsive, but she did consider it, mostly because she was afraid her father would kill her if she went home. She could try to go to Iain, but he lived in a crowded house with his Muggle family, and he wasn't expecting her. She would be in London in a few hours. How would she get to him?

Then she thought of her sisters. She hadn't seen them since Christmas. She had to know where they were, what was happening. She had to warn Bellatrix about their father.

"Thank you, Professor," she said at last, blinking up at Dumbledore. "But my sisters will keep me safe."

Dumbledore paused before responding. "That is good to know," he said softly. "If you change your mind, return to Hogsmeade. Someone will meet with you there."

Narcissa nodded, feeling a twinge of true gratitude. "Have a good summer," Narcissa told Dumbledore, feeling odd even as she said it, as if the entire world was surreal to her in that moment. After that, she left and returned to her dorm, where she finished packing her things, changed out of her school robes, and then went downstairs with all the other students to load the carriages and head to the Hogwarts Express.

The hours flew by, as did the rolling landscape. Narcissa watched dully from her spot on the train, not even bothering to feign attention to any of her companions. A few attempted to engage her, but Narcissa ignored them, and they gave up.

Late in the afternoon, the Hogwarts Express rolled into the station, and the students began pouring out, excited for their summer break. Narcissa picked up her shoulder bag, slipped it up her arm, and then stood stiffly. She wasn't sure what was going to happen. She hadn't heard anything from anyone, even though she'd written to both of her sisters multiple times since Christmas.

On the platform, there was no one waiting for her.

Narcissa deflated, her features pinched with the effort not to cry. Her eyes drifted around the platform, where she saw other students rushing to their parents, clinging to their siblings, waving good-bye to their friends. Narcissa wondered if perhaps her sisters were just running late.

So she took a seat and waited.

The platform emptied. The families left. And still Narcissa waited, alone.

At last, the evening had come, and the platform grew very dark. One of the train drivers peered over at Narcissa. "Are you alright, Miss?" he asked.

Flushing, Narcissa stood and adjusted her bag on her shoulder. "I'm fine," she said coldly, turning away. She marched through the barrier into the Muggle platform for the London train station, and she immediately balked, having nearly been run into by a Muggle family. They eyed her robes oddly and then continued.

Swallowing tightly, Narcissa swiped at the corners of her eyes and then moved forward, dragging her large luggage trunk on a cart behind her. Finally, she reached the edge of the station and pulled her cart over to a secure location. If she concentrated, she could Apparate herself and all her things. She was seventeen. She had gotten her license. Unfortunately, she was not very good at it, and she had never had to Apparate with so many things before. That made it more difficult. Her heart pounded; she was afraid.

Too afraid. If she splinched herself, she wasn't sure what she would do.

Tears spilled over Narcissa's cheeks. The train station was crowded, but Narcissa was utterly alone. Fighting the urge to sit down and sob, Narcissa rubbed at her face with her shoulder and leaned against her trunk. Nearby, a Muggle man stopped and tilted his head at her.

"Do you need some help?" he asked kindly. "Are you lost?"

Narcissa balked; she had never spoken to a Muggle before. "I – " she stopped. "No," she said at last, ducking her eyes. "I just… I'm not sure – how to get home."

"Well, where do you live?" asked the Muggle man. Narcissa hesitated, and the man seemed to understand. "I don't blame you of being wary of strangers," he said. "But you know, if it's in the city, you can just take the bus there." He pointed to a row of buses. "Those go all over."

Narcissa blinked, and then suddenly, it hit her. The Knight Bus!

"Oh!" she said, sitting up. "I will take the bus, yes. Thank you."

The Muggle man smiled and gave her a little wave before he disappeared. As he walked away, Narcissa noticed him frowning at his glasses, which appeared to be broken. Touching her wand in her pocket, Narcissa edged it in his direction. "Oculus reparo," she whispered.

The glasses fused back together in the man's hand while he wasn't looking. When he next peered at them, he stopped walking and looked at his glasses with surprise. Then he turned them over in his hand, perplexed but smiling. Narcissa's lips quirked a little, and she continued on.

When she found a secure spot, she raised her wand in the air, praying that she was doing it right. Within seconds, a massive purple bus appeared, a wizard in uniform hanging out of the door quite casually.

"Thank you for using the Knight Bus," he said tonelessly. "Name?"

Narcissa exhaled. "Narcissa Black." She signed a piece of parchment and gave him her address. After that, he loaded up her trunk for her, and Narcissa entered the bus cautiously. After a few moments, she took a timid seat near the front.

The Knight Bus took next to no time to reach Grimmauld Place, and when it stopped, the attendant flicked his wand and Narcissa's trunk appeared on the sidewalk. "Have a nice night," he said before picking up a magazine and flipping through it. Narcissa hurried off the bus, grabbed her things, and then turned up to look at her dark home.

Like her Aunt Walberga's house, Narcissa's home was not immediately visible. Rather than hiding between Muggle homes, though, Narcissa's ancient house appeared to be an abandoned church, ominous in its decay. However, as Narcissa approached, the magic sensed her, and the image of abandonment shimmered before fading away like a retreating fog.

Narcissa looked up at the large and foreboding home, realizing belatedly that it looked more like a cathedral in its natural form than it did under the guise of its Muggle-repelling magic. The home was made of thick grey stone with a large set of arched double-doors. The windows were of painted glass, and there was even a pointed edge at the very top that resembled a steeple. The manor had been luxurious in its inception; it was a mere skeleton now.

Her heart pounding, Narcissa ascended the steps to her home; it had been an entire year since she had last seen it.

The door opened with a long creak. The inside foyer was dark.

"Hello?" Narcissa called out, leaving her trunk near the door. She held tight to her shoulder bag, fear causing her to tremble. "Is anyone home?"

She lit her wand and gasped.

The home had been in poor condition when she'd left, but now it seemed as though it had been ransacked. What little furniture remained had been broken or tossed around; the walls were peeling and half-gone in some rooms. Their beautiful family tapestry alone had been preserved in the foyer, but its frayed edges and tattered threads mirrored the Black family itself – proud, old, and dying.

Dust covered the few remaining shelves or chairs, and the curtains had been ripped from the rods and left on the floor. Turning, Narcissa ascended the pitch-black staircase to the corridor where her old bedroom had been. Pushing open the door shakily, she saw that it had been left mostly undisturbed. The only thing that had been destroyed there was the rocking chair, the one in which her mother had died.

Narcissa's hand jumped to her mouth, and she dropped to her knees next to it, her fingers running over the broken pieces. The rest of the room watched, as if sentient, each corner holding memories and trinkets alike. Nearby, a doll Narcissa had played with waited to be picked up again. Their beds – all three of them – were neatly made, each of the blankets and pillows stiff with disuse.

A noise startled Narcissa out of her thoughts. Someone was downstairs.

Rising, Narcissa took her wand in hand and went back down the stairs. More noises alerted her, and she found herself walking towards their once-elegant dining room. Ahead, she saw the double-doors ahead outlined in light. There were voices within – more than one.

Edging forward, Narcissa reached out a hand and pushed the doors open.

"Narcissa!" called out a joyful voice.

Bellatrix appeared in front of her, causing Narcissa to jerk back. A barrage of lights, sounds, and voices assaulted her. "We've been waiting for you," purred her sister.

Shocked, Narcissa looked around the large room to see it filled with people, all of whom were wearing dark robes and many of which were in strange skeletal masks. In comparison to the rest of the home, the aged dining hall was in immaculate condition. The sconces were filled with light, and the long dining table was set, though there was no sign anyone had eaten.

Instead, a line of bound witches and wizards floated over the plates, turning slowly as if roasting over a fire. Narcissa stared; each one of the bound people was bruised, bloodied, and gagged. Tears dropped down their faces and hit the pristine plates below, soiling the fine cloth napkins. There must have been a dozen of them, all the way down the length of the table, some sobbing and others moaning. People milled around the room and talked in groups, as if nothing was amiss. Some looked over at the captives and laughed.

"It took you long enough," said Bellatrix, fingers tight on Narcissa's shoulder. She moved behind her sister and edged her forward when Narcissa did not move on her own.

"I was – I was at the train station," managed Narcissa at last, mumbling under the weight of her fear. "No one was there."

"You're seventeen," sneered Bellatrix. "I think you can get home by yourself now, don't you?" Narcissa started to respond – Merin, there were people everywhere, and they were all staring at her as Bellatrix walked her across the room – but Bellatrix hushed her. "It doesn't matter now. You're here."

At last, the pair of sisters came upon three figures standing at the head of the room. Two of them were wearing those terrible masks, but the third was not. However, he was turned away from them as they approached, so Narcissa could not see him.

"My lord," said Bellatrix importantly, her voice quite loud and pleased, "she is here."

The figure at the center turned, as did the two flanking him.

Never before in her life had Narcissa seen anything so terrifying. The wizard in front of her had the strange inhuman features of a serpent, eyes red and narrow. His skin was an unnatural color, and his hands appeared sharp, each fingertip ending in a dangerous point. The aura that surrounded him seemed to seep into Narcissa's pores against her will, and it made her feel unbearably violated.

Bellatrix looked upon this chilling man as one might a god, her voice trembling with anticipation.

"My lord, this is my sister, Narcissa." Bellatrix put both hands on Narcissa's shoulders and edged her forward, reaching up one hand to stroke back a lock of hair from Narcissa's terrified face. "She's the one I've been telling you about."

"Ah," said the strange wizard, moving forward. Narcissa would have moved back, but Bellatrix was right behind her, and she could only stay frozen in her spot. "What a joyous reunion… What do you think, my dear Bellatrix? Will she prove a loyal servant, as you have?"

"No one is as loyal as I am, my lord," said Bellatrix coyly, and one of the masked figures next to them bristled, as if he took issue with Bellatrix's claim. "But Narcissa will serve you well. She has the same pure Black blood as I do, and she will do well in her role."

At this, Narcissa finally jerked her head a little to look at Bellatrix. "My – my role?"

"Excellent," said the strange wizard, and everyone ignored Narcissa's question. "I assume, then, that you and Abraxas have reached an agreement?"

Narcissa's eyes widened, and her trembling gaze shifted to the two masked figures. It was then that she understood; they were Abraxas and Lucius Malfoy, the most powerful father and son in all magical society. Their faces were hidden, but their aristocratic stance seemed to pervade even their disguises.

"Yes, my lord," said Bellatrix, eyes glinting.

"Good," said the Dark Lord, looking to one of the masked figures. When the figure stepped forward, the Dark Lord lifted his fingertip to the edge of the mask, and it melted away to reveal Lucius Malfoy's stiff and apathetic features.

"Come, Lucius," said the Dark Lord. "Take a look at your new bride."

Narcissa's heart stopped.

At the Dark Lord's request, Lucius Malfoy turned to face her. Narcissa made eye-contact with him and immediately regretted it; never before had she seen such a cold stare, not even from her father. "I don't understand," admitted Narcissa at last in a tiny whisper.

A cold hand touched her shoulder, and Narcissa flinched. The Dark Lord drew her nearer, and she felt ice seep into her heart. Stumbling forward, Narcissa let herself be led by the strange wizard until she stood next to Lucius Malfoy, who waited with the Dark Lord's other hand resting on his own shoulder.

"It was a great disappointment, what happened to Corinne Lestrange…" said the Dark Lord, and Lucius's grey eyes sharpened. "She was, after all, such an eager follower… so full of enthusiasm for our purpose. Alas, we must press on without her."

The two were led a few steps away, and they stopped at the head of the table, where a bound wizard revolved slowly, whimpering as he did so. Blood leaked from his temple and fell onto an ever-growing puddle of crimson on the table. Narcissa kept her eyes down, but when the Dark Lord squeezed her shoulder rather painfully, she looked up.

The captive wizard at the head of the table was her father, Cygnus Black.

"This," said the Dark Lord, with Narcissa and Lucius at his side, "is the start of a new era. No longer will we tolerate the oppression of magical pure-blood witches and wizards." The Dark Lord looked directly at Narcissa's father, flashing his teeth in a chilling smile. "And no more shall we let the weak rule us."

Bellatrix appeared like a newly-formed shadow, her lips curled in delight as she looked over their father, who began his struggles once more.

"Cygnus," said the Dark Lord, "might have proven useful, had he conceded to my authority. Unfortunately, his pride robbed him of such a opportunity." The Dark Lord tilted his head at Bellatrix. "But at least he makes for a suitable gift, does he not?"

Bellatrix's smile deepened, though a flash of annoyance swept over her features when Abraxas Malfoy stepped forward. His mask had vanished; in its place was the face of a refined, cold wizard well into his seventies. He moved to stand in front of Narcissa's father. "Our deal still stands, Bellatrix?" asked the aged wizard with a sneer.

"Of course," said Bellatrix lowly.

Within an instant, a bolt of magical energy jumped from Abraxas's wand and hit their father, jarring him painfully as he screamed against his gag. Bellatrix's laughter was almost louder than the man's shrieks, and others turned to watch as Cygnus – who had wronged, double-crossed, threatened, and stole from many of the people in the room – contorted under the weight of the curse.

At one point, Mr. Black's strained, blood-shot eyes met Narcissa's, and she felt herself reliving that slap; the pain was just the same, the shock and the fear.

Abraxas hit him again and again, going on for what felt to Narcissa like hours, but in reality was only a few minutes. Finally, he sagged against the magic keeping him lifted, and his eyes closed. His chest moved only lightly.

"Steal from me, Black?" snarled Abraxas venomously. "Dare think that you are comparable to my family? Now you know your place. And all that was once yours is now mine!"

Mr. Black was jarred into awareness again when Abraxas hit him with the Cruciatus curse, and Narcissa flinched against the noise. With one last brutal curse, Abraxas took a step back, composed himself, and then pointed his wand directly at Mr. Black's face. "Avada Kedavra," he hissed.

The bolt of green light struck their father, and his body fell on the table with a crash, ruining the table settings below.

All of this Narcissa watched, scarcely breathing, not moving or speaking. Tears streamed steadily down her face, but no one seemed to notice.

No one except Lucius Malfoy.

When Narcissa finally managed to pry her eyes away from the body of her father, Lucius was looking at her, his jaw tight. He did not look sympathetic; but at least he noticed.

The cold hand on Narcissa's shoulder returned, tight and unforgiving.

"It is time for your new lives to begin," said the Dark Lord, as the rest of the room turned to face them with eager looks of venom.

"Tonight," declared the Dark Lord, voice growing louder, "you are all Death Eaters!"